Je Ne Sais Quoi
by lye tea
Summary: There is something about her that gives off the stink of living out of spite. /Renji x Rukia/
1. Chapter 1

**1.**

He bows his head, lowers his gaze, and stares. And yawns, only it is like a plaintive wail—a noise coming afar. Somewhere off in the distance and too real to be trapped and recognized, there is a long vowel splitting the air.

He hears a girl scream-cry, a torrent of sounds that he hasn't heard in a while. In the Dead Land, there is no such thing as tears. To weep is to sink deep (and never rise up, lift up off the steps and out of the dust).

Renji swears he heard _wrong_.

The hunger has become constant. He searches frantically for food (that he _should not need_) and devours greedily, a prisoner starved.

And along came a girl, lost and young and just as desperate, bare-foot, soot-faced and skinny. Her skin is covered in sores and cracks. Renji can't tell her age, could be anywhere from ten to a thousand.

Take a wild, wild guess.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing here?"

"Food." She eyes his hands—clutching—keenly. Like a cat, she dives and darts for it and grabs for it and stuffs everything wholly into her open mouth.

Furious, Renji rushes. He shoves past thieves & beggars (tearing aside their tattered, hanging thread-clothes). There is no time for _sorrys _and _are-you-all-rights_. The girl is fast, damn.

Renji loses.

She smirks at him from a perch almost in the clouds, legs swinging and dangling and manner, tone taunting.

-

The world begins when they're thirteen, appearance-wise.

(The dead does not really change.)

She takes life and breathes it into her clay heart and stabs the rest into his hollow chest. She takes their bones and hunches down to turn them over malleably, like mushed, gunked up marsh-earth, into supports.

Supports for ills and misfortune, for everything that came and is yet to be. Rukia (she grandly announces the name) does not spare time or energy. Everything must be just right.

The obsession exuding from her body and hits him with restless jerks. He grumbles for her to _quit _it, but she doesn't stop until it's rocking heavily into the night.

"Just wait, I'm almost done, and when I'm done we'll get out of this pithole. Just wait."

Renji doesn't answer (doesn't dare snap her neck loose of useless _thoughts_). In Rukongai—he wants to say—thoughts mean nothing. Thoughts become shadows, become the dead man's dead.

And they are the ones who bury the remains.

Always.

-

He starts training all of a sudden. She pokes at him, touches the lean muscle underneath white cotton and laughs. Asks why he is doing this, why he likes torture. Is he a masochist then?

Renji shoves her aside and doesn't avert his gaze. He steadies his stare intently, focused, on the prize. He will get (both of them) out of here.

In Rukongai, actions resound from the filthy ally-ways and bamboo pipes. Actions determine, actions form. Actions become reiatsu, and then, they will be gone. Liberated and just as good and respected as any of those damn gods.

-

Tired and annoyed, Rukia starts imitating him.

She takes the simple kido gestures he tries to create with reeling arms and lines and outshines him by a mile and more.

"It's easy," she says offhandedly.

And Renji gives her a glare hideous enough to pierce through granite.

She drops her hands and shuts her mouth. And with clenched fists, the knuckles go straight to the jugular. Renji crashes to the floor, hits it _hard_. The dirt seeps through his mouth and he tastes blood.

He stands up and grins crazily, flashing white fang-teeth that bounce off beats and sun-rhythms.

There is a meter and a measure surging from his gut. He takes them and modifies their identical shapes and powers into ready-made courage.

"You just got your ass kicked by a girl."

"You're no girl," he retorts.

-

Winter is a sin, or should be, she thinks.

It's cold and unbearable and reminds her of a whirlwind of desires and hates she would rather forget.

Along with winter rages, Rukia catches glimpses of a face like her own. Only, broader (prettier) and older, guiltier. The face frowns down at her and cups her face with ghost hands. Rukia shivers, shrinks closer to him.

Awkward and pained, he takes her into a rough-slinging embrace. (He can feel her chest heaving and sobbing dryly against his, but gives no comment.)

-

She never tells him what happened to her before they met. He never asks. It's impolite, it's taboo. And she extends him the same courtesy: some things are not to be breached.

Ever.

-

Gradually, he surpasses her, except in kido. She is pissed beyond belief and demonstrates her anger by thrashing. Renji sits back and enjoys the spectacle. It's been a long, long time since he's had a good laugh.

-

Like he promised, he takes her to the edge of Seireitei and dares her to enter. Rukia looks alarmed, calls him absolutely _mad_—sui_ci_dal—she's not so completely messed up in the head to attempt _that_.

Seireitei is close and far, making the lacuna between hell and lesser hell endlessly spreading and extending until he can barely make out the other shore.

But he's made a promise he vows to keep. He'll get them there, one day.

(And when the first qualification exams come back, Renji rips the letters into tiny pieces. He seethes, she sighs. _I_ told_ you so._)

-

"I _told_ you we'd get in."

She snorts, "Yeah, and you're only off your estimate by a hundred years."

"That's not important when you have eternity to spend."

"Spend as what? Shinigami?"

"What else."

Abruptly, her mind goes blank. Nothing else comes to mind. Because—the nasty voice states—there _is_ nothing else. Starve or slay.

"Shinigami," she agrees.

They walk, stone-cold somber, and hardly breathe. And from the corners of her eye, she sees two men (one smiley and squinty and dangerously kind-looking, the other has dark hair with an embedded bone-clip).

Rukia shivers, even though the sun strikes down directly overhead.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. **

Sun sets differently in Seireitei, he noticed. He observes the bright flashes of yellow and sudden, overwhelming bursts (like a blood cell dying) and immediately, Renji can see the world. He can feel infinite swelling rejoicing, knowing.

That Death can come but he is safe.

Safe in Seireitei, where the elite come to play (and sneer as the poor, the wasted, the _trashed_ are left to rot in filth).

And Renji's mouth curls up into a cruel smile, watching her gape in awe and wonder too, and is glad knowing he's not the only one having his heart crushed. Having his dreams and expectations come falling down.

_This is where dreams come to perish in a poetic death. _

-

In an adjacent shed—in an inconspicuous, infested, strawman room—Renji takes Rukia there and kisses her like mad.

Stuffs her of love, of hollowness, of hallowedness, of everything he has and is worth not.

And sometimes, when she leaves (just a little disheveled and reddening) he can see the hints of playful guilt rising. That is signal for him to smile. Something casual, something surreal.

He would never think of making this into anything more.

-

They study at the Academy during the day until their eyes swim from memorizing complicated spells and hands throb from clutching the wooden swords. And finally, he ssneak out to converse with their new friends by the evening (without Rukia drifting along).

So, Renji takes his time and sips the sake and beer and looks back and forth from Kira to Hinamori). And he imagines what it would feel like kissing Hinamori instead. And despises himself for thinking it incredible.

Just lovely.

Especially when she bites down on her lower lip and looks around like a scared, tossed out rabbit. Her eyes widen unbelievably, and she seems like she's jumping into air—flying over moons and heavens because she is _just that light_.

And even though Rukia is horridly stick-skinny herself, she's like stone.

She's got her feet strongly anchored to the ground (she's a realist). And Renji needs to have his dreams amended.

(Because the collapse of foundations of youths of minds and hallucinations would hurt something _terrible_.)

-

He hardly ever sees her anymore. And now that exams are approaching, he barely has time to breathe and sleep.

But there she is, one day, waiting for him by the (now abandoned) shed. Her arms stretched out and a grin expanding, Rukia looks divine.

Just like some stupid angel come down to earth (and got her wings snapped off so she can't ever leave).

Renji grins eagerly back.

-

"Wait," she says.

And there's a fearful look on her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing…I. Just not tonight, okay?"

And the frenzy stops.

-

He tells her that when he graduates from the Academy he wants to become Fukutaichou to her brother. Rukia doubles over from laughing. Her spine is curved and poking out of the thin robe in small hills, jagged from incessant giggles.

Renji glares and shoves past her.

"Forget you!" He shouts after.

But still Rukia laughs, because it is the most hi-lari-ous thing she's heard him say.

-

When Renji is assigned to Byakuya's Division, Rukia shuts up—straight and solemn as a cursed, venomous arrow.

-

Renji detaches himself from the world as training intensifies. He gets this familiar look of famine and vigor (rigor_—mortis_) in him that frightens the hell out of her.

Yet, Rukia doesn't say a thing, knows it's best to let him be for now. And knows that any disturbance could set him off, and when Renji is distressed, he cuts first and asks second.

(And Rukia is quite fond of her limbs, thank you very much.)

-

She asks him, over warm dumplings and cold tea, why he trains so hard. It's unnatural, even for Shinigami, to be so involved (in love) with combat. Other than Ziraki, but he doesn't count.

"So why are you doing all this again?"

"I want to be Taichou."

And this time, Rukia does not laugh. She keeps sipping at the bitter water and thinks.

-

"Wait."

Rukia pauses and huddles in closer to her coat.

"Well, what?"

"Hang on a sec. I think I saw something back there."

"What is it this time? A little-wittle squirrel? Damn those things. Why I don't I clean its head right—"

"Shut up!"

"Then, _what_?"

"A Hollow…I think."

"You think."

She nods slow and anxiously. (Their first field mission had gone disastrously.) Rukia runs forward and prepares to attack.

-

Renji runs fast too but not as quick and smart as her. She moves like the wind, invisible and tangible and like a whipping gust, hits with full impact enough to kill.

-

The Hollow dies—purified—and she asks him something bizarre: Where do Hollows go? Do their souls disappear too?

He doesn't answer, doesn't know how.

Because, see, _he wants to say_, there is no nice way of putting this.

-

They are never assigned to a mission together again (Renji thinks Byakuya had something to do with this). And Renji bears him a grudge from that day on.

Only, Renji has acquired some lying talent now, and shows respect and reverence all too well. _Second-nature_, it grows and develops like a fetus kicking in the womb.

-

She downs the cup rapidly—flurries that he can barely make out.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, for I don't know how long. Try not to miss me too much," she says between big gulps.

Renji doesn't reply (there's no need).

-

Through whispers right before she steps into the inky nothingness, she promises him letters.

He never receives them.

-

Some weeks go by, and the burnt dusk is losing all its beauty and desires. It is snuffed out, eats itself apart, and still, it can send shivers across his arms. Still, Renji looks to the west every day and wonders when she's coming back.


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

He offers an orange out of curiosity (as to how she would respond). She takes the fruit awkwardly and bites into the flesh and beams. It tastes good, sweet and juicy.

"Wow."

Renji shrugs (pulls it off like nothing).

And Renji wakes up and realizes she's not there (here). Somewhere, anywhere. Off in the distance—on a mission—he can't care less. _Taichou_, he repeats. That's what's important. Renji sits down to eat breakfast and chants his hymn over and over.

It is nauseatingly religious.

-

Rukia comes back two weeks later, thoroughly exhausted and dreading. Covered in sores and battle scars, she takes Unohana's hands and brushes them across her burning forehead. Her brother is there too, _the prick_, and Renji wants to hit him in the jaw. But that would be suicide, and Renji knows better by now.

Breathe. Slow. Deep. Let the small things go.

She mumbles in her sleep, tosses fitfully. She looks like a piece of trout gurgling for water. _Kaien_. Or something. Renji thought he heard a name.

"Is she…"

Unohana-Taichou smiles, reassuring him (it doesn't work).

"She's fine. Just needs some rest. You may go now, _both_ of you."

She points at Byakuya. And Byakuya leaves (strangely submissive, Renji notices).

"But—"

"There is nothing to worry about. Please go. Now."

He leaves and takes with him a knowing dread. _Kaien_. He could've killed the little bastard if he didn't go and get himself killed. _Hero worship_. (What he would've given for her to think of him like that, adoration and adulation and everything in between.)

-

Yes Sir,

No Sir.

How he _hates_ Kuchiki Byakuya.

Yes Sir,

No Sir.

Renji parrots back and lets himself to be manipulated. _Twang_, Byakyya plucks the string and Renji follows suit. Renji never disobeys, Renji is the best subordinate a person could want.

(Because what Byakuya doesn't know makes no difference.)

There is a reason for everything, especially subjection to degradation to this incessant decline. Renji grows weaker by the moment while Byakuya treks on, fueled by lineage and prestige and plenty of other adjectives Renji can't even pronounce.

And Byakuya takes her with him. She walks by his side and can only look back at him (at Renji) with doleful eyes that apologized and apologized and still changed nothing.

_Nothing_.

"No Sir, nothing happened."

Byakuya nodded, _good_. "Make sure it stays that way."

"Yes Sir."

-

From time to time, when they are both off-duty and wandering aimlessly, he visits her. Always on the outskirts of the estate (where he is still permitted to stand). Always in the evenings, around sundown. Always, she wore the same expression—painted on.

She draws him closer to him, points to her chest and shows him her scar. Or the scar that would have appeared if she were still human.

"Look. Isn't it magnificent?"

He laughs.

"Yeah. Must've heart, eh?"

She nods.

"So, summer is coming to an end in the Real World?"

"Uh-huh. But I have to go back before then. Field mission."

"You could've been promoted a long time ago." (And spared.)

"I know." (And we both know why I wasn't.)

"At least it won't be anything dangerous." (_He_—the nasty _prick_—won't allow it.)

-

Before she leaves, again, he brings her oranges tied up prettily with a square of pink silk. Dainty-quaint, short and sweet.

The cycle perpetuates.

And Renji surfaces, more adamant and _courageous_.

Because courage is the underlying making of all heroes. And he wants to prove to her that he's not some gutter-slop anymore. That he's worth something. That he—and the _prick_—are equals. That he and _her_ were equals too.

The playing field is leveled, and Renji stakes his claim.

-

Sweat and fractures: Renji trains relentlessly.

Inexorable. _Pigheaded_.

Renji waits to challenge Byakuya and win.

(Just a matter of time, he reminds himself.)

-

A conversation ensues between him and his sword. Zabimaru asks him why he is blind. Renji responds tersely: none of your business.

Zabimaru sighs and sends a whipping blade of air at Renji.

He dodges and gets up again. _Again_, fight me. Come on. _Again_.

And Zabimaru deflects whatever blows Renji sends his way.

"Why are you so stubborn? Why do you chase things (her) that keep flying away?"

Shut up and fight.

-

The summer (by human standards) pass and still she does not return. Renji becomes worried and almost asks his captain on her status, but remembers that he is competition.

Renji whittles away at a stone, clashing steel against flint until—

A week later, an announcement is blared over Seireitei. Kuchiki Rukia is a fugitive is to be captured.

Her nature is fickle. It pours out like sand through cracked class with a useless net waiting below. She runs, and he pursues.


End file.
